


And Do They Know You Cry Yourself To Sleep?

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-11
Updated: 2006-02-11
Packaged: 2019-01-19 15:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Late night/Early morning ramblings from the mind of one Ginny Weasley, Post HBP.





	And Do They Know You Cry Yourself To Sleep?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Disclaimer: Not Mine!

It's late night, early morning, I don't know. I can't see a clock, so time doesn't matter - the grey hours at night, when everyone else is asleep, are my time. They lie in their beds, oblivious. Sleep makes everything disappear. No worries when you're asleep, just your brain processing the events of the day, translating them into dreams. Just your body repairing any damage done to it over the course of the day, and continuing to grow, replacing cell after cell. I wonder how long it takes before your whole body has been replaced... I read it somewhere, but I can't remember. And if your whole body, brain included, is replaced, what about your soul? What does that mean for the person you are? It's the middle of the night, a perfect time for philosophy.

It's late night, and I can't sleep. My mind works a mile a minute, processing, thinking, analysing... longing... I want to be complete, finished, whole. There's something missing, something I can name but can't achieve. I want the other half, the person to complete me. Everyone does... Or do they? I know exactly what I want. Maybe there I'm lucky - so many don't. But maybe I'm not - maybe in knowing, I make it even worse for myself. Because I know the what, but not the how. I know that I want flowers, and sunrises and picnics. I want kissing in the rain, lazy Sunday mornings in bed. Someone who can tell me my favourite song without being asked, who will watch a movie with me, and enjoy it just because I do. Someone to finish my sentences, but to know when to let me fight my own battles. Passionate arguments, differences of opinion. Tears. The feeling you have when you've just made up and you think nothing will come between you again... So much more. But in wanting all this, in knowing that I want all this, do I make things so much more painful? Because it'll be a long time coming, if ever.

Buddhism teaches that wanting, desire, is the root of all suffering. Well, not quite that simple, but it'll do... Does wanting bring pain, always? I want love... It brings me pain, now, but should it be fulfilled, no more pain. The problem lies in the wanting of that which we cannot have - but in having, are we complete? Or is it the illusion of completeness? Or is it just philosophy in early morning hours, my mind going back and forth and contemplating everything from the Universe to my bed sheets.

(And yes, I contemplate my bed sheets. They are two shades of blue, with stripes on one side and circles on the other. The colours remind me of the ocean, real ocean when it's clear and turquoise and looks like it's glowing...)

It's the early hours of the morning, and I can't sleep, as others lie in their rooms around me, all over the god-damned world. To those of us like me, those of us contemplating philosophy and politics and geography and mathematics and love and life and death and fate and magic and the Universe and everything in between at 4 am in the morning, I ask - do you think those asleep have any idea how many thoughts are running through our heads? How the whole world can seem conquerable; or the tiniest problem insurmountable? Are they even aware we're awake?

 

And do they know when we cry ourselves to sleep?


End file.
